“Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider your sleeping arrangements?”
It wasn’t like that, not really. They hadn’t discussed it. Not that he didn’t have hopes and aspirations, which would have been easy enough to figure out in the privacy of their hotel room, but he always wanted to give Martin the choice. No need to move too fast.
Although, with that kiss...
“What do you want?” he said.
“People are going to be arriving soon. Before they get here, there’s...” Oliver hesitated. “There’s one more thing I need to talk to you about.”
“Fine.” Seb needed a moment longer with Martin. “We’ll come find you in a bit.”
“No. I need to talk toyou.”
Something was up. Oliver was definitely looking nervous. Seb gave Martin’s hand a squeeze, eyes tracing his face, then sighed. “Fine. Lead the way.”
Oliver pushed past them both to the tall patio door at the far end of the room. He slid it open, then stood aside to wait for Seb. “It won’t take long. Martin, make yourself at home. I’ll bring him back.”
Seb paused long enough to kiss Martin again, silently telling him to hold that thought. He didn’t care if the whole family was there to watch.
Oliver led him out over the back lawn to the small pond in the corner. When they’d been little, their mother kept Japanese carp in it, white and bright orange ones that sucked at the surface of the water for pellets. Then one summer, a snapping turtle took up residence in the pond, and the fish disappeared, one by one.
“This better not be a lecture about propriety,” Seb said when Ollie slowed. “You were all set to put us in the same room, and everyone knows I’m a big old queer, so it’s not like anyone’s got any right to complain about who I kiss.”
“Don’t be a child.” Oliver ran a hand over his head. Seb thought again that his brother looked tired. Older. His hair was longer than it had ever been. His shirt was pressed but untucked. He was the same Oliver, but less tidy.
“Did you bring anyone to this shindig?” Seb asked.
“No. I’m not seeing anyone right now.”
“Couldn’t convince Cooper to come, just for old time’s sake? You two were practically married. Sometimes I think Mom and Dad liked him better than you. Remember that time he broke his ankle when we went skiing for spring break? Mom was hysterical. They definitely liked him better than me. Did he become the fourth Stevenson child after I left the last time?”
“Just stop talking for a second!” Oliver walked away, running his hand through his hair again in an old nervous habit. When he’d stopped biting his nails in junior high, he needed something to do with his hands, and his hair became the unfortunate victim. Stevenson hair came from tough stock, which was just as well because otherwise Oliver’s would have given up the ghost a long time ago.
Seb smiled and bit his lip, while his big brother paced. He’d promised to be civil. He hadn’t promised to not poke the buttons he’d learned to press over the years.
“I need your help,” Oliver said finally.
“Okay. Parker got you tying chair covers in the morning?”
“No. Well, yes. But that’s...” Oliver did another lap around the pond.
Anticipation made the hairs on Seb’s neck stand up. This was going to be big. And if Oliver was asking him for help, he was desperate.
“Did you get some nice girl pregnant? Afraid of telling Mom and Dad you’ve sullied the Stevenson name?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Oliver spun on his heel and started marching back toward the house. Seb laughed and trotted after him, tugging on his sleeve.
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. Tell me what’s up.”
Oliver paced a few more laps at the edge of the pond. Seb waited.
“I’m leaving the firm.”
“Say again?”
“My job. I’m quitting my job.”
Seb nodded. “I figured that’s what that meant. What do you mean though? You love that job.”
